In The Interim
by MrsRoy
Summary: Post-ep Rescue. 12x10. Elliot watched as Calvin was taken away. Olivia sets out to prove him wrong, that it wasn't just a temporary arrangement. EO.


**I don't own them. I just share.**

* * *

_**And she only reveals what she wants you to see. She hides like a child, but she's always a woman to me. - Billy Joel.**_

_"It was always temporary."_

He'd watched the boy ripped from her arms, kicking and screaming. She was clinging and he knew it. She was too afraid to let go. The look on the child's face, and he was helpless, he was blameless. He just stood there, stood there and witnessed the utter devastation unfurl like the ravages of time in flux.

She wasn't his mother, but he was hers. He was Calvin Benson.

He wonders if happiness is just an illusion, caused by the absolute omission of reality. A man of faith, toppled by the musings of a child.

She's tired and she doesn't want to talk anymore. He can't coax her any further than the front door of her apartment. 'Too empty,' she whispers.

"Come on, Liv. There was nothing you could do. Vivian is his biological mother. The law is on her side. You have to let go."

Her tears are not a mark of weakness. They're beautiful. They convey her story. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand words.

"Why are you still here, Elliot?"

"Apparently, misery loves company."

What he means to say is that upon reflection, he realizes that her grief is his, that the longer he thinks of her suffering, he suffers just the same. A vicious, endless cycle that they tolerate. He shares her despair; he closes his eyes and imagines that he can read her.

"Go home, El. Catch a few hours."

"I'll make you some tea. Then I'll think about it."

"I think I need something strong. Bourbon. The ah ... the top shelf on the right."

He fumbles with shot glasses; he figures he might as well join her as they cling blindly to the vices of their ancestors.

The liquor might take more from her, but at least she'll be comfortably numb, her fleeting glance all but a memory drowned in sorrows that burn her throat and leave her gullet damaged. The physical does not manifest, it becomes a habit which repeated frequently enough, becomes automatic.

The glass vials clink and he offers a toast.

"Here's to Calvin."

She downs her swallow, but the pain is still there, it still dares to mess her up and leave her crying to the darkness, in her loneliest loneliness. The eternal hourglass will again be turned.

"El, what would your life be like, if you hadn't had Eli?"

He tips the neck of the bottle down to her glass and pours. The dark amber liquid is smooth, and unblemished. Unlike the two of them, it flows without reprieve.

Elliot shrugs and raises the shot to his lips.

"Different."

"Yeah." She fingers the rim of her glass, and watches him fidget with his watch again.

"I'm fine, El. You should go."

"Olivia, I'll take my chances."

It's funny, he thinks, as he listens to her choke a sob. The greatest pain he's ever known, is that of losing someone he could never have.

It's ironic.

"He's just a kid, just a kid, and he needs a stable environment, El. Vivian is a junkie, how do we even know that she's sending him to Vermont?"

"Liv. You can't do this. He's gone. You can file a claim with the courts, or you can move on knowing that you tried."

"She doesn't deserve him."

"She's his mother."

Olivia slams her shot glass down onto the coffee table and stalks into the kitchenette, leaving him to reflect on his life. He had a choice, once, and though he cannot change the past, he cannot change the inevitable. He plays on the string he has. And so it is with her.

He can hear her gentle mewling and knows that she's distressed. Abandoning his glass he makes his way to the kitchen where she's dissolving into tears. She's sitting on the tiled floor with her back slumped against the fridge door. There's a single piece of paper in her hand.

Upon closer inspection the penny drops and he realizes just how close she and the boy had become.

She smiles through the tears, rubbing her nose across the cuff of her sleeve as she snivels. "He drew this, it's me. He told me that I rescued him."

"Liv?"

"Fine. I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm good, El."

He extends his arm, offering his hand and she rolls her eyes.

"I'm fine, El. Fine." Still, she takes his hand just to humor him.

Their eyes meet across hands that join, and he can feel her heart. She holds the wonders of the world within her sight, like an optical illusion of artificial needs and imaginary sensation.

"El ..."

"Kathy and the kids, they're probably sleeping. I don't want to wake them up."

The kiss that comes makes her toes curl. His mouth descends upon hers, and it's bruising, as their lips battle for control. He showers her with the attention she deserves, as his tongue traces her bottom lip. It's a pleasant reminder of just how nice affection can be.

With one hand on her hip, he draws her into the heat of his body, while the other cups her face, his thumb stroking her cheek.

Her fingers work at his belt buckle, as she pulls it from his trousers. Her hand brushes the front of his pants and he grows hard with her ministrations.

He moans into her mouth as she rasps on the zipper and parts the two halves of fabric to reveal his cock. She takes him in the palm of her hand, swiping her thumb across the head of his length, the warmth filling her with a sense of anticipation.

Elliot breaks the kiss, panting. "Liv, are you sure?"

"Please, El. Just make it stop."

His lets his trousers drop to the floor as he steps out of them, and backs her against the door. He drops to his knees, running his hands along the insides of her thighs. He grapples with her dress pants, lowering them along with her knickers.

"Christ, Liv, you're so wet."

"Elliot, please."

He stands to his full height, grasping her knee and pulling her ankle up to his hip. He steps forward lifting her, and pinning her full weight against the appliance. She locks her ankles at the small of his back, sinking down onto his erection and letting out a breath at the same time.

Elliot moves his hips, thrusting hard, and then withdrawing. He slams his cock back into her warmth, eliciting a groan as Olivia buries her head in the crook of his neck.

His shoulders are broad, and she wraps her arms around his neck to steady her movements. He's buried so deeply inside of her.

His teeth are on her, sinking into the skin of her clavicle. The muscles in his back contract as his hips thrust again, harder as he gets closer. He closes his eyes and sucks in a breath, filling his lungs with air, as his hips buck towards her.

His chest heaves, and he focuses his energy as his hands grasp her hips and he lumbers her with all of his weight. The curve of her body demands him, and her belly is soft against the hard line of muscle that holds her against him.

His name escapes her lips, capturing the moment she breaks. He is silent, though he grunts his release, throwing his head back and filling her.

He continues to hold her steady as she sags against his chest, panting.

"El. We just. In my kitchen. Against the fridge. Is this real?"

"Liv. Not now."

He slips from her body, and she hisses when the cool air hits her center. Her legs are aching, and she stays in his embrace, trembling.

"El. That was ... We shouldn't have."

Elliot scrubs his hands over his face, and sighs. "You wanted this too. You told me. You know what; I've got a home to go to. I should have left in the first place."

He gathers his trousers and tightens his belt, tucking his shirt into the waistband of his pants, trying to make himself look respectable.

His fingertips dance across her arm, the skin is soft, and smooth, and he wants just to touch her one last time.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry. You were good for him."

"Elliot, don't do this."

"I'm not," he holds her wrist between his fingers, stroking the inside of palm. "You are."

* * *

Six weeks later she's pacing the bathroom, and trying to deny the fact that she knows what she considers to be her gut feeling is so much more than.

Six weeks since she lost legal guardianship, six weeks since the night that she and Elliot finally crossed that invisible line.

Her belly is tender, and her breasts are swollen. She swallows thickly. She can't decide if she should tell him, if it's worth the emotional upheaval. It's not like he'll know that there's anything wrong.

Her hands shake as she picks up the test strip; the truth is in front of her now. Not in black and white this time, just in monotone pink.

Her palms sweat as she reaches for the phone. Her fingers are clumsy, and the simple act of sending a message becomes a full time occupation.

_Need to talk. Call me. Liv._

Six little words that are going to change her life.

"Liv, it's me," he mumbles into the receiver. "What's so important that you had to wake me at one in the morning?"

"Shit, Elliot. I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant, El."

The silence speaks volumes.

"Funny, Liv. What's up?"

"I'm serious, I'm pregnant. It's yours."

"And you want me to do what?"

"Nothing, Elliot. Absolutely nothing."

The dial tone echoes in his ear. She's gone before he has the chance to reply, to so much as even form a coherent opinion.

She's not expecting him on her doorstep forty five minutes later. She's not expecting him with coffee, decaf.

"Thought we should talk. I screwed up, we need to get this sorted," he says, sipping from the Styrofoam cup. "There's a lot we need to figure out. Have you seen a doctor yet?"

"Elliot, what are you doing here?"

"Liv, tell me something. How did we go from partners to this? How did we end up like this? You begged me, Olivia. Do you remember that? You told me to make it better, you asked me to make the pain go away."

"I know, Elliot. You don't have to remind me. You can't do this, Elliot. _We_ can't do this."

"You think I'm too old, you think I've forgotten what it was like? I still remember what they taught me at boot camp, Liv."

"Elliot. I wanted you to know. That's it. I don't need anything from you."

"You conveniently forget that I'd do anything for my kids. You tell me you're pregnant, say that it's mine, and you expect me just to walk away? Not going to happen."

"Don't be stupid, you have a family."

"And apparently, that includes you now. So I suggest you get used to me being around here."

"You're always here."

She turns her back on him, their discussion as good as over at her insistence. Folding her arms across her chest, she's too uptight to sleep right now, the same thoughts clouding her mind, on a feedback loop that's completely involuntary.

"This isn't the way, Liv. Listen to me. Listen to me. We can do this, remember what I said, when they took Calvin? It was temporary, it was always meant to be temporary. But this, this could be permanent."

"You think it's that easy?"

"Olivia," he walks towards her. She'll never believe the truth. "Is this about Calvin? Because if you think you can fight for him without me, you've got no idea."

She stares at him, her eyes wide, and her expression, one of utter disbelief.

"Yeah. I know. I know about the forms that you lodged. You think I wouldn't find out?"

"I … I thought it was too late. I didn't think there was any point."

Elliot shakes his head. He knows about her casual lies, he knows that she applied for custody weeks ago. As soon as she could.

"Don't lie to me, Olivia. I'm trying to help you."

"Fine, Elliot. Let's discuss this, calmly. Can you do that?"

"Come on Liv, don't insult me."

Olivia takes a seat on the couch, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands.

"So. Here's the deal."


End file.
